The Hunted Ones
by ChildOfTheMoon86
Summary: Francis Bonnefoy, head of the Anomalous Suppression Unit 12 has a job to do. His mission; find and detain the Anomalous individual code named Thorn. It's taken months just to get this close to catching his target, but what's this kid doing here? And why in the world is he dressed like a wanna be superhero? Superhero au. One-shot.


"Three… two… one… go, go go!"

Francis leads the charge, followed by a dozen of the best A.S.U officers in the district. They received the call no less than twenty minutes ago of a suspected Anomalous in a jewellery store downtown, and going by the description, it must be _him_.

Spilling out into the street, he leads his men straight for the front door, another group covering the back exit so this time, there's no escape. But it's near impossible to see inside, it's a little after 2 in the morning, and with all the street lights broken — as per usual — it's pitch black out.

Guided only by the flashlight on his suit and the spare in his left hand, Francis kicks in the shop doors, his team funnelling in behind.

Except, instead of being met with a fancy store, it's more like a jungle in miniature. Dozens upon dozens of vines are tangled around every inch of the store, over counters, around pillars and under tables. A single chair hangs suspended several feet above Fran's head.

Though the vines and their large prickly leaves makes the store more like a maze than anything else, it won't stop Francis or his team.

With a wave of his hand, he signals the group to fan out, while he slowly slinks his way around, eyes peeled for any movement. This target has always been a slippery one, but no matter what, this time Francis won't let him get away.

Suddenly, from within the depths of the vines, he hears one of his men shout, "Freeze, hands in the air!"

Rushing towards the call, he arrives just as his men are surrounding a figure trapped within the densest part of the maze. The only answer they receive however, is a muffled whine.

Checking the others all have their guns trained on the figure, Francis steps forward, pulling away vines to reveal the figure within. With one last tug, the plants fall away from their face.

"Uh, this isn't what it looks like."

A teenager, arms, legs and chest tightly wrapped in the vines, hangs helplessly above the ground, and in his hands, bags full of jewels, one ripped and spilling its contents rests just a few feet away.

Shining his light on the kid, Francis frowns as he looks him over. Dressed in what looks like a poor attempt of a superhero costume, all bright reds and blues, with very worn sneakers and a white mask half hanging off his face, blond hair and far too innocent blue eyes.

"It's not him," Fran concludes, turning away, "apart from the hair, he's not a match for our target."

"Your after the plant guy, right?" The kid asks far too happily for someone in his position.

Ignoring the boy, Francis addresses his team, "Any sign of our target?"

"None sir, we've swept the whole store, but it seems he's got away again."

" _Merde!_ " Fran growls, pinching the bridge of his nose, "How does he _always_ know when we're coming?"

"Yeah, he left already," the kid shrugs, or tries to, then brightens, "But I know where he went!"

"What?" Fran spins on the kid.

"Yeah, if you cut me down, I can take you there!"

Francis is more than a little sceptical. This kid, who he's never seen before today, clearly acting as a vigilante and found in a rather incriminating position, just _happens_ to know where the target is? Him, a child, knows more than a team of dedicated officers with months worth of raids and intel gathered to hunt down this one target?

He eyes the boy more closely, sizing him up. Despite the critical look, the kid only wiggles, either trying to free himself or scratch his back.

"You _do_ realise what this looks like don't you?" Fran asks, raising an eyebrow at the teen, "You, all alone, with stolen goods caught red handed?"

"Well, technically they're not stolen, they haven't left the store," he mumbles, as if repeating something he'd heard before, "and besides," he cries, suddenly remembering, "I was trying to stop the crazy guy! I wasn't stealing, I was preventing the theft!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah!"

"James, cut him down and someone call the clean up squad, we're done here." Francis sighs. As the men work to free the boy, Francis leans up against a counter, pushing vines out of the way to sit. "Well, this ought to be good. Let's hear it."

* * *

As crazy as it sounds, Alfred had always wanted superpowers. But in this world, were those with 'gifts beyond the natural', or the Anomalous as the government calls them, are hunted and detained, actively wanting powers is pretty foolish. But that never stopped Al from dreaming, or from reading up everything he could get his hands on about them. From what he could tell, the Anomalous first started appearing around 40 years ago, sometime in the mid to late 2020's, though the cause remains unknown, or so they say. Back then, Anomalous people weren't hunted, only routinely examined to try to understand them better.

But, that all soon changed when a kid called Raivis Galante, having suddenly developed pyrokinetic powers which he was unable to control, accidentally burned down half of his home city. The accident, dubbed the 'Galante incident', was widely reported on at the time, and drastically turned the public against the Anomalous. Less than a year later, the Anomalous Suppression Unit, or A.S.U was created, it's purpose; hunt down and contain all individuals expressing signs of the unnatural.

And for most of Al's young life, he was a perfectly normal kid. Until one day, he stopped a bookcase falling on his brother. At the time, it wasn't something to really think about, at least not to him, but to everyone in that library that saw a 16 year old boy lift a several ton antique bookcase like it was a paper weight, it definitely was. Then, a week later, an A.S.U officer turned up at their door.

He was taken to be submitted for testing. A simple assessment, to try lifting heavy objects. When he lifted a car with the ease of a cardboard box, the verdict was set.

After that, he should have been taken to one of the detention facilities, but, he got out.

Finding himself on the run at 16 with sudden super strength, there was only one logical conclusion; become a super hero!

* * *

"Become a super hero? Really?" Francis frowned.

"Well, Yeah, it was the perfect set up! A tragic back story fitting of a hero for justice!" The kid, Alfred, grins, now freed of the vines, he stands just shy of Francis's height.

"Alright, say I believe you, what does any of that have to do with finding my target?"

"I'm getting to that, geez." Al huffs petulantly.

Rolling his eyes, Francis waves a hand, "Go on then."

* * *

Becoming a super hero wasn't as easy as Al thought it would be. With everyone so sceptical of Anomalous people, and the government looking for him, Alfred had to think on his feet. First things first, he needed a disguise, a costume that'd tell the world he's a force for good! Buuut, unlike all the superheroes in comics, getting a costume is a lot harder than you'd think. After all, he couldn't just _buy_ one, that'd be to obvious and super lame. But he didn't have any skill to make one either.

It was a problem.

But like all good heroes, he had a plan. An older friend to be exact.

"Please, Gil, you gotta help me!" Al begged from the tree.

"So it's true then? You're an Anomalous?" Gilbert asked as he leaned out his window, curiously looking over the teen crouched in the tree by his house.

"Yeah, pretty cool right?"

"More like crazy," he smirked, "but I think I know someone who can get you what you need."

And that was how Alfred got his first super hero costume. Designed in the style of the American flag and made from a lycra like material. Deep reds cover his left shoulder, fading into dark blues at his legs, and 50 stars splashed across his right side, with a white eye mask to top it all off.

Needless to say, he looked like an idiot, but that didn't stop Al from loving it.

Costume in hand, now all he had to do was go out and be a hero. Which was oddly difficult to get started.

Ever since the new Social Ratings System came into effect, crime rates had rapidly dropped as people didn't want to risk their ratings going down. Plus, as Al soon found out, it's all a matter of timing and just being in the right place at the right time. After all, he couldn't very well be seen walking around during the day, and it's not like criminals broadcast when and where their going to strike.

So it was by utter chance that Alfred ended up in what can be argued as the right place at the wrong time.

Wandering down near empty streets at one in the morning looking for crime, Alfred sighs as he's yet again left with nothing to do.

 _Geez, why's it so hard to find a bad guy?_ He wonders, kicking a can down the road. In his boredom, he might have kicked it a little too hard. The can goes flying, and seconds later the sound of glass shattering meets his ears as a street light up ahead goes out.

Al winces at the unintended damage, that is until the sound comes again and again, and one after another the lights go out. Realising that this can't be his doing, Al grins, knowing this can only mean one thing. _Bad guys, finally!_

Stealthily he runs towards the darkened street. At the edge of the black out, he can just about see something wrapped around the top of the broken lamppost, but it's too dark to make out. Shrugging it off, he scans the area, looking for the culprit, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees movement. Rushing to follow the shadow, he spots them heading into a shop, the door opening for them with ease.

 _That's strange, shouldn't there be an alarm?_ Al thinks as he slinks his way over to the store. He can hear the sound of more glass breaking inside, and, as his eyes slowly adjust to the darkness, he sees the figure moving around.

A bad guy and he's caught them red handed stealing! Seeing his moment to shine, Al bursts in.

"Stop right there!" He calls, proudly standing in the doorway.

Unfortunately, Alfred didn't think this through.

Before he can even blink, something wraps around his ankle and tugs him off his feet. He face plants into the ground, but only for a second as a moment later he's tugged up into the air, dangling upside down by the leg.

Slightly dazed, it takes him a moment to collect himself, and, much to his annoyance, the figure didn't even pause in their theft.

"Hey! I said stop, didn't you here me?" Al cries, frowning over at the person.

"I don't think your in any position to be making demands, so why don't you be a good little kid and shut up?" The figure, a man by the sounds of it, says dismissively, voice full of condescension.

 _Well if he won't stop when asked, guess I'll just have to make him stop._

Turning his attention to his leg, Al reaches up, feeling the thing holding him in the air. It feels tough, and if he's not going mad, there are leaves growing on it.

 _Is this some kind of plant?_

Grabbing hold of it, he pulls, his super strength letting him rip it apart with ease, but he didn't think about the fall, clattering to the ground again. The sound finally makes the man look up, and that's Al's chance.

Scrambling to his feet, Al charges, leaping over the counter between them, he grabs the man, tackling him to the ground. Pinning the man's hands beside his head, Al sits up and grins.

"Ha, I got you thief!"

But rather than surrendering like Al hoped, the man only frowns up at him.

"Don't get in my way." He growls.

There's a sound of rustling before Alfred is suddenly attacked, more plants rushing across the ground wrap around his arms and chest, pulling him off of the man and back against the counter with a clunk. Sitting up, the man reaches for one of the bags Alfred made him drop, a bag Al is just now noticing is full of jewellery, but he isn't about to give up that easily.

Tugging hard, Al rips one arm free of the plants, and grabs the bag.

"I won't let you steal this!"

"Let go!" The man pulls on the bag, but Al's grip is stronger and the bag splits, it's contents spilling out onto the floor.

"Tsk, stupid brat!" The man sounds furious, but Al counts that as a win.

While the man is distracted trying to pick up the jewels, Alfred works on ripping the rest of the plant stuff off him. Once free, he grabs the man's wrist, stopping him once again.

"I'm _not_ letting you steal from here!"

"Persistent brat."

Al hears the rustling again, but this time he's ready for it. When the plants go for him, he dodges, jumping and rolling out of their way.

"Why are you stealing?" Al asks as he stands, "You've got super powers but you're only using them for your own gain."

The man glares across at him, Al is blocking the exit, but more than that, he scoffs at Al.

"Just who the hell are you? Some stupid idealistic brat out to play hero? Isn't it past your bed time?"

"I'm America." Al proudly proclaims, but the man only laughs.

"Well we certainly think highly of ourselves, don't we?" He shakes his head, "Try again."

Huffing Al pouts, "I'm Justice!"

"No, come on, you can do better than that."

"Superman?"

"Copyrighted, plus, your just a kid."

"Freedom?"

"Forgettable."

"…Hope?"

"Now your just saying words."

"Well what's _your_ name huh, you got something better than me?"

Smirking deviously, the faint light glints in the man's green eyes, and suddenly Alfred gets the feeling he's in real danger. He barely has time to leap away from the vines that climb across the floor, over the counters and down the pillars, all diving for him. As he ducks and dives, doing his best to dodge and fend of the reaching plants, going so far as to toss a near by chair at them, he hears the man mocking him.

"I don't need a name, because unlike fools like you, _I_ have no intention of being known."

More vines rush in around Al, cutting off every escape and funnelling him into the back of the store. Not exactly used to fighting in confined spaces, or against plants that seem to have it in for him, the sheer mass of vines soon out number him, trapping a leg, an arm, his neck, and soon his whole body. As he's raised off the ground, more and more vines bind him in place, constricting his every move until he can barely even wiggle.

Coming to stand in front of him, the man grins.

"You see boy, _this_ is what happens when you let your guard down." He shrugs tauntingly, hands carrying bags full of jewellery.

"Why?" Al cries as he continues to struggle in vain, "Your Just like me, you're an Anomalous too, so why…"

"Why?" The man laughs, the sound bitter and full of hate, "That's a stupid question. Take a look around you? _This_ is freedom, and not some idealistic crap but _real_ freedom."

"Freedom to you is wreaking a store and stealing jewellery?"

"Well, technically I haven't stolen anything yet, we're still in the store after all. But that's not my point." He sighs, flicking a leaf by Al's head. "What reality do you live in? A hopeful dream where the Anomalous live free? Am I just a villain and you the much loved hero come to stop me?" He scoffs, "So childish." He steps back, and with a flick of his hand more vines grow, filling the store and hiding Al more in their depths. "Here," he smirks, placing a half filled bag in each of Al's hands, the vines forcing him to hold onto them, "if your so good, then maybe you can try talking your way out of this with them." He nods behind him, but Al can't see much past the vines growing over his face. "Now, as fun as this was, I must be off. These won't sell themselves you know."

* * *

"And then he left out the back, and you guys showed up not long after."

"So we just missed him again." Francis sighs, before tilting his head at Al, "but I thought you said you know where he went?"

Grinning, Al proudly pulls out a crumpled business card from his pocket, "He dropped this when I tackled him, I thought it might be important so I grabbed it."

Taking the card, Francis looks it over, reading the fancy gold print.

 ** _Arthur's Floral Harvest_**

Smiling, Francis calls to his men, "Looks like we've got a lead."

* * *

 **Author's notes:** Gotta say, as much a I love superhero aus, writing them is hard. Between planning out powers and my uncreative brain trying to come up with cleaver names, this happened. Sooo… yeah this is a thing now.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


End file.
